


Unbound

by xladysaya



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fantasy/Folklore, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, mentions of death but nothing too heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11430921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/pseuds/xladysaya
Summary: Summer is Yata’s favorite time of the year in his town, a place where it normally rains nonstop nine months out of the year. It doesn’t help that the town is marred by old legends and tales which do nothing to make it less creepy and drab. Essentially, summer is Yata’s chance to forget superstitions and finally hit the beach. Apart from deciding what he wants to do with his life, all he wants is to enjoy it with his friends and maybe get to know Fushimi Saruhiko, a stranger who Yata can’t help but feel drawn to. However, the summer has more in store for him than usual, and he’s never been one to back down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sarumi Fest everyone! I’m so happy I get to participate this year as well ^^ This is a fic I’ve been working on for over a year really, and I have constantly gone back and forth about finishing and posting it lol. Who knows when I actually will, but it’s an important project to me, so I figured why not post it for fest and see what people think? ^^ I hope you enjoy!

The old cemetery, which resides isolated and forgotten on the south edge of the city, houses the dead from long ago, before industrialization came, before buildings and phones. The history is dull and no longer taught, though some still hang on rather tightly to it, including the lore which always shrouded the rainy plains.

At the rusted iron gate of the cemetery, there is an inscription. No author has even been recognized for it. 

_“There is a legend in these parts._

_It is widely accepted despite never being proven._

_Should one choose to make a life here, it is best to know of the fate which awaits you._

_When it is one’s time to die, a beast of the shadows will appear at the threshold of your home, teeth barred and ready to strike. It is a monstrous thing, scarring and beautiful, large and as black as coal. It will paralyze you where you stand, it will render everything worthless. It does not speak, it does not show mercy. It is an emotionless creature with only one job: to drag you into darkness. Do not try to run, do not try to fight. Such attempts are futile. You cannot escape. Death is imminent.”_

\--

They were looking at one of his old photos. Old, as in it had clipped edges, burned with a lighter in the moments he'd been too angry to continue staring, when his desire to erase such memories was strongest. Basically, it was from a time when he actually allowed himself to be in pictures at all, and _that_ time had come and gone long ago.

Looking at it now though, as it was held in Douhan's delicate, manicured hands, he almost let himself believe he'd been overreacting. The pressed green jewels on her index finger and thumb slid over the shadows of his plump face, the childish pout and the beginnings of his characteristic creased brow were already forming even at the young age of six. The quality of the family portrait was mediocre, or no, that was him being unexpectedly kind. It was a horrid quality, the shadows of the image casting a menacing look over his father's smug face while the light shone upon his mother's with a false celestial glow. How quaint, how fitting, since that was how she paraded herself back then, as less evil than the man beside her.

And then there was his younger self. Small, skinny, and his hands still a little dirty from being out by the lake. His glasses were crooked and his clothes too tight, he’d hated those fancy collars and button ups. Useless. Presentation was everything, _she_ would say, the lie was everything. Though, with someone like Fushimi Kisa, who never attended festivals and who he’d once caught tearing down holiday decorations, he had to wonder what compelled her to arrange a family portrait in the first place.

"You look so cute," the blonde commented, the light tilt of her lips causing him to glare as he was brought back to the present. No matter how long he'd known her, her smug intentions and concealed jests annoyed him to no end, especially this time, when—

"This is what I mean though, you look so naive and innocent," she continued, flipping the photo over, pretending to analyze the date on the back as her eyes flashed with cunning. Honestly, why he allowed her to make a fool out of him, why he came to visit her at all, was a total mystery to him.

Saruhiko stared out of the bay window, which took up half the wall of her small home. The weeds out front were overgrown, covering all but the corners of the glass and no doubt beginning to grow into the chipped bricks the house was made of. The plants stood out between the houses on either side of Douhan's, _those_ homes had fresh cut lawns, rose bushes, and neat upkeep. Whereas the windows to those homes let in all the sky had to offer in terms of darkness and sunlight, the pane of the blonde's allowed only occasional streams of light or droplets of water through. The window itself was molded with intricate designs on the borders, the curtains as silky as they were unnecessary, as if she saw guests far more important than himself to appreciate such expensive items. But no, Douhan was not an entertainer, and her door remained locked for all except him. And again, why was he here?

"It reminds me of how you look now--"

"Shut it," he cut her off, standing up as he quickly made his way to the door. He’d been getting restless all evening, and now the weather was finally taking a turn for the worst. It was raining out, and he only had a single coat to shield him, but it was the least of his problems..."I don't have to listen to you and your--"

"Theories? But they're not, are they?" Douhan sighed, kicking the shoebox of old photos to the floor. They’d served their purpose already. Meaningless now. "You're going to go look for him now too aren't you? Normal people talk to the ones they like, they don't--"

"Why would I do a stupid thing like that?" He let each footstep he took towards the door accompany each part of the question, the wood creaking beneath his sneakers like he'd fall through the floor with any more force.

"Because you wanted advice deep down? Because you are in lo--"

"Those things don't happen to me, or to people who have never met," Saruhiko replied, before he realized he was probably pouting very much like his childhood self, and turned his expression into a schooled sneer. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"Yes but this is more fun." She twirled a lock of her hair, absently staring out of the covered window like she was watching a breathtaking show, and he used the opportunity to turn away, and opened the scratched up door, not flinching when crusts of white paint rained onto the wood below. "Make sure to bring him by sometime, when you get the guts to talk to him."

_Yeah right_ , he thought. Partly because he wanted to believe he wouldn't _actually_ talk to the boy in question, because why would he? And partly because...well, he was feeling spiteful, and the pathetic nature of the acknowledgement itself had him scoffing.

The thunder outside rang through the air, followed by the downpour, and he pulled his hoodie on, his stomach sinking with dread when he took his first step out into the storm. His clock read 4:45 pm. The thunder rumbled on.

"Oh, and Saruhiko?" Douhan's voice was booming through the noise, despite it being calm and neutral in nature, and he no longer found himself baffled about how she managed to do that, only annoyed that she seemed to always know what he was thinking. He clicked his tongue, turning his head back to face her.

Her lips, glossy and pink, tilted up in a knowing smirk before he was smart enough to look away, the words hitting him even as he sprinted out into the rain.

"Have fun."

 --

“Chitose hurry up! We were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago!”

A distant rumbling of cars filled the chilly atmosphere, and the sound of a spray can dying and clattering to the ground shrouded the warning. A few more clacks of a new can being prepped filled the gap where a response should’ve been, and the group of boys glared angrily at the source. Perhaps sensing the tension, the spraying ceased, and soon Dewa was being acknowledged with a long, overdramatic sigh.

_Here we go,_ Yata thought to himself, rolling his eyes.

“Hey now,” Chitose addressed Dewa finally, turning away from the paint splattered wall in front of him. The other did not look impressed, as he rarely was with any of Chitose’s antics. No one was ever impressed with them, but it wasn’t as if they could avoid it. They were common, and for whatever reason, their group put up with them. “You can’t rush art.”

More silence.

Chitose shook the spray can again, not bothered by it, and continued his graffiti art on the wall under the freeway. A fresh, vibrant shade of orange shot out, adding definition and brilliance to the wispy lines and details.

They did stuff like this often, just tagging random places and buildings to waste time, to have fun. Plus, the thrill of getting caught was exhilarating, though it hadn’t happened yet. They had a perfect record so far.

Not for long though, if Chitose had anything to do with it.

“You can so! A night at home instead of in jail depends on it,” Bandou supplied, nervously stuffing empty cans into the duffel bag they had brought along. He sloppily wiped his hands on the grass, wincing when they became muddy, the colors bleeding together until it all looked brown. He looked up as if the universe had wronged him, it wasn’t as if he could wipe the substance on his pants after all. No evidence could be left. He chose to ignore Akagi’s snickering nearby in order to focus on the reason for his pain. “Besides, it’s just a dumb horse…thing.”

“It is _not_ a horse dickwad, it’s a Pegasus and it’s flying out of the fiery gates of hell,” Chitose explained, like it _needed_ explaining, adding more red to the artistic looking flames angrily as he did so. It was a nice piece, Yata would begrudgingly admit. The horse was weirdly life like even with its amateur design and weird colors, and it was sure to last a good few months before it faded into the grungy wall. Was it worth the risk though? No fucking way.

Akagi was full blown pissing himself at this point. Yata didn’t know if it was at Bandou’s expense or not, but he envied the other for being able to be so happy in their situation.

“So?”

“ _Soooo,_ it’s gonna look bitchin.” Chitose swore again as his can ran out of paint, lazily tossing it behind his shoulder and grabbing another from Fujishima. Despite looking a little more than completely done with Chitose’s shit, the other made no move to stop him. Yata winced at the sound of the can opening. Sometimes Yata wondered how Chitose afforded all the paint he went through with his big projects. “I’m almost done anyways. Like, five minutes tops.”

“When have I heard that before? Oh yeah, just last week, when your over the top mermaid was supposed to look _bitchin_ ,” Eric supplied with a scowl, causing the others to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys suck.”

“Guys we’ve been here too long,” Yata finally spoke up, tired of just watching his friends bicker. Sometimes it was funny, today it wasn’t. There was a strange sense of foreboding in the air, and Yata couldn’t help but be superstitious. It did _not_ feel like a day to push their luck. “It’s gonna be five soon. The bridge will be full of cops by the time we get there!”

They didn’t exactly look unsuspicious either, what with their stained clothes and large duffel filled with spray paint. Not to mention, they were hardly dressed in the most proper of outfits.

Yata hadn’t even really wanted to go out that day, too tired from playing videogames and doing chores all throughout the previous evening. With enough pestering from his friends though, he was forced out of his room, greeted by a gloomy day that promised bad weather. He was glad it was almost summer, he missed the brightness and warmth of the sun. Even just thinking about it made him energized. Getting to go to the beach, hike the cliffs…

But that day, the town had continued with its usual foreshadowing of bleakness. Indeed, the rain had started while they were out, making the choice of their graffiti spot easy. They were shielded from the water, underneath a loud freeway on the banks of the river. The horns of cars and the screeching of tires echoed down below, making it hard to hear. Plus, the banks of the river were around the more commercial area of the city, which made the land around them fucking reek.

At the thought, his nose scrunched up, and Yata held back a groan. He couldn’t wait for the rain to be over, and to go back to his neighborhood. Even if it was small and humble, it smelled fresher and there was way less traffic.

Sadly however, there weren’t too many places to paint there. As a result, they often had to travel more towards the city. Whenever they tagged in the area, they’d usually take the old midtown bridge back to their side of town, walking besides the traffic and hoping no officers stopped them. So far, so good.

“We’ll get there before five, quit worrying,” Chitose said while adding on the finishing touches to his large piece. “Aaaand, done!”

As he said it, the last of the can was used up, emitting a low hissing noise to signal its emptiness.

“Yes, yes. Now let’s go!” Bandou zipped up the bag after throwing the last can inside, and Chitose scoffed _. Ah no…_

“You guys just don’t get my artistic vision.”

Yata rolled his eyes, brushing his hands onto his shorts and grimacing as paint smeared onto them. _Fuck, I forgot_. His mom was going to have a fit if she saw how dirty he’d gotten.

“I’m not sure if the bridge is such a good idea anymore,” Fujishima spoke up cautiously. “It’s nearly rush hour, it’ll be busy.”

“So?”

“Sooo,” Yata interrupted, “lots of people will totally see us!”

Ugh. They’d probably have to take the long way around. He’d surely be late for dinner, and his mom would have his head no doubt, and coupled with the paint, he’d be doing _all_ the chores tonight.

The group looked frazzled now, unsure of the best way to proceed. Even taking the long way was risky, given the longer they were out carrying their stuff, the more likely they were to be noticed. Not to mention the rain was coming down a bit harder than before, and they were without umbrellas.

_Shit_ …

“This is all Chitose’s fault,” Eric muttered beside Fujishima.

“Oh, and who’s the one that suggested we even come out here?”

A chorus of ‘you’ was shot back at Chitose, causing him to scowl at his so-called friends.

“If we’re going the long way, we better start walking now,” Dewa added in frustration, zipping up his coat to hide his paint stained undershirt.

“More like running…” Bandou’s muttering didn’t go unnoticed by Chitose, who was now flipping him off and offering up a butt load of excuses as to why none of it was his doing.

Yata joined in, trying to will them all to shut up, because he was totally dead meat when he got home if he was more than thirty minutes late. Plus, Yata didn’t exactly like when it was pitch dark outside, something about where he lived creeped him out at night. The woods were like something out of a horror movie (but he’d ever let his friends know that stuff still freaked him out). The atmosphere wasn’t helped by the area’s rain, and Yata never understood why his mom chose to live in a city where in rained nine months out of the year.

“Let’s just risk it! Let’s go on the bridge—”

“Yata, it’s five! With all the college kids walking home from school, it’s almost as long as the other way! And we’re even more likely to get caught!” Bandou was freaking out, pacing back and forth on the dead grass beneath their feet. It sloshed from the rain, sticking to his sneakers.

Yata sighed, close to giving up and accepting his fate.

How was he going to explain himself this time? Traffic? Lost track of the hour? He didn’t have much time to shuffle through his overused excuses, and his own feet began to nervously shift on the muddy ground.

_What do we do?_

“It’s faster if you use the underpass instead,” an apathetic voice managed to cut through their bickering, causing all heads to turn towards its source in fright. The shock was only amplified by the roar of thunder above their heads, almost mocking their misfortune.

_Fuck!_

Yata turned in a flash, shoulders tensed up from the prospect of being caught, his feet ready to run.

_Damn, if it’s a patrol we’re screwed._

But…no.

Looking over, Yata was met was a completely different sight from the one he’d imagined, and against his will, his breath caught in his throat. The voice had come from a boy their age, slender and tall, wrapped in a cowl neck. His dark, wet hair fell in his eyes, obscuring the uninterested gaze he was sporting. He had glasses on that were a bit smudged from the fog of the rain, and his clothes seemed a bit damp and worn. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, his eyes glazed over but trying to keep an intense focus on his surroundings. The bags under them were dark for someone so young, but it didn’t take away from his beauty or the bright blue hue of them. He really did seem a bit unreal. Hell, Yata thought maybe he must’ve been one of those models he saw in storefront windows, the ones with the too perfect pictures. His skin was pale against the dark sweatshirt, and Yata had to wonder if he was a complete dumbass, letting himself be completely soaked by the rain.

There was silence as the group stared at him, the few feet of distance making it seem more like a standoff than anything else. The stranger didn’t budge, not even as the rain began to fall harder.

Weirdo.

“U-uh, what?” Chitose had spoken up finally, taken aback by the other boy’s presence, probably hoping that they wouldn’t be ratted out. The dumb design behind him stuck out like a sore thumb, colors new and bright with the paint still wet. They were clearly the perpetrators too, hands stained with paint and the empty cans haphazardly tucked into their duffel, some sticking out messily. Their shoes were discolored from the bright shades as well, so it would take an idiot not to connect the dots.

_Damnit Chitose._

A tongue click.

It was simple, but the annoying response was clear as day, even through the heavy rain fall.

“I was just saying, the underpass is faster than walking on the bridge itself. Less people that way,” the young man continued, rubbing at the back of his head. Yata blinked, lips twitching in a smile he couldn’t exactly explain. The guy was awkward, and he talked as if he was seriously struggling to offer advice.

But, the underpass…

_Huh._ They’d never tried the underpass before, mostly because of old, childhood tales which scared them away from the dank, shrouded place. Still, they were grown up and in a group now, and they could really benefit from a shortcut.

“Hey thanks! Guys—” Bandou was interrupted by a pull to his collar, a gesture that instinctively caused them to all huddle up in a circle. “Huh? What—”

“Idiot,” Eric muttered. “We don’t even know this guy.”

“So what? He’s just giving us directions,” Bandou pouted, on edge and ready to take off in whatever direction he was told. “The longer we’re here the more likely someone’s gonna find us!”

“Yeah but we’ve never been that way before,” Yata supplied, a bit more nicely than Eric. “The end of the pass could be a total cop zone for all we know!”

“Not to mention this guy could be a total sell out,” Chitose added. “I mean, we didn’t even know he was there. He probably saw everything!”

“Well I don’t know, he doesn’t exactly _look_ stuck up. He definitely doesn’t look dangerous…” Yata whispered. In fact, he’d say the guy could stand to gain some weight…

“Shit, I look like I eat more than him,” Eric murmured.

“You eat more than _a lot_ of people.”

“If I may interject,” an annoyed voice cut though the group’s chattering, causing another wave of panic to go through them all. Honestly, given their reactions, they looked like total spazzes. They all jumped back, the loud sounds of traffic also not helping the atmosphere as loud truck horns blared in the background. “Most of the homeless hang out under the new bridge over in downtown now. There’s no more reason for the cops to patrol the underpass anymore.”

It was a roundabout way of telling them that there was nothing to worry about. It was safe. Why not just say that in the first place?

_Hm…_

They all shared a glance then, and the young man raised an eyebrow, burying his hands deeper into his pockets. Something was still off about him…and though he was always taught to be grateful, Yata wanted to know what was up before trusting the guy. Plus, he was curious. The guy hadn’t stopped staring at Yata since he’d arrived, and Yata wondered if he’d met the guy somewhere before.

Yata was the first to approach him, naturally, his face scrunched up in mild skepticism. “Why are you tellin’ us this stuff?”

A shrug was the response he got, well, that and what he swore was a light flush on the taller’s face. Come to think of it, the guy definitely wasn’t bad looking in the slightest, just a bit mopey. Like a pet lost out in the rain.

Yata fought the urge to shake his head. _Not the time._

“You looked like a group of idiots with nowhere to go. The faster you’re out of here, the quieter it’ll be,” the boy said. Akagi squawked somewhere behind him, and Yata nearly did the same.

_The hell?_

Yata scoffed, glaring now. Well, talk about a complete turnaround. Who was this asshole? “Whatever! What kind of answer is that? What kind of creep hangs out under a bridge anyways?”

“What kind of delinquent spray paints it?” The response was quick, so sharp it almost caused Yata to step back, but like hell did he back down from anyone.

_Oh, I am gonna—_

“Not to interrupt your weird flirting,” Eric said, looking smug and intrigued in a way Yata wasn’t too fond of. “But you didn’t have to come over here when you saw us.”

_Wait…huh? F-flirting?_

There was a weird feeling in the air, the kind which usually came when Eric was secretly making fun of him, and Yata saw the taller boy glare at the words.

Yata didn’t even have time to sputter out a response, because it was soon all going downhill.

“Yeah, heh,” Chitose seemed to speak with the same wolfish grin Eric was now sporting. Bad feeling. Very bad. “You sure you didn’t just want to help in general? Or…did you have an angle? I can tell when people are being uh…checked out you know?”

A long, loaded silence. Another tongue click.

_What_?

“H-huh?” Yata stared at the other boy now, more than a little confused.

“Well,” the taller began hesitantly, almost reluctantly. “You _did_ look like you needed help, but I wasn’t all that excited to offer any.”

Yata laughed at that, because seriously, why all that fuss if he was just trying to help? And why try to deny it after? Maybe the guy was just weird…

He glanced back at his friends, and his tense posture faded. “Yeah, we definitely—”

“I said _you_ …as in I figured _you_ needed help,” the taller cut off, his voice almost a whisper then. His eyes were boring a hole through Yata, the bright blue now a lot clearer. “I don’t know if that constitutes as checking someone out—”

“It does,” was the answer all Yata’s friends gave.

Yata stilled, and he almost didn’t hear the unrepressed laugh from Eric behind him.

_Checking out? W-wait…_

Yata watched as the stranger looked away, directing an embarrassed scowl at the ground, and it all seemed to click.

Oh.

_Oh._

Yata’s face lit up red instantly, the cold not helping to hide it, and he was about ready to beat up Chitose, who was humming behind him. “I-I-I-I-I’m not—well I’m not like that see.”

“Since when?”

_Shut up Bandou._

The other’s eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement at that, and Yata swallowed, suddenly torn between punching the guy and…well he didn’t know.

“I’m really not!”

“Yeah, right,” Eric whispered from the back. Yata spun around, flipping him off before returning to the handsome….no… _annoying_ stranger.

“I-I’m just not…looking for that,” Yata said, but then backpedaled as if his mind was trying to save him. _Fuck, fine._ The guy did seem kinda cool… _ugh!_ No, he was mysterious, that was all. “As in right now! Like _right now_ , we really have to get back to the east end!”

God Yata wanted to crawl into a hole, his face was on fire. Luckily, the other spared him. Sort of.

“Hm, I see. Either way, you seem a bit slow, so I figured I’d take pity on those who lack common sense,” the boy said, a smug look dancing on his features.

“W-what? Fuck you, just—”

Sirens began ringing in the distance. No doubt about it, they were police sirens, and they were close.

The whole group tensed, and though they knew they probably weren’t being looked for, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be found. It was getting later the longer they stood there, and soon cops would be patrolling their area. The bridge may have already been crawling with them since they’d ran behind schedule. Which meant at that point, they had no real choice but to…

“Ugh fuck this! Either way, we might be screwed,” Chitose yelled, throwing the duffel at Bandou and hightailing it towards the direction of the underpass.

“Thank you for the help,” Fujishima spared a glance at the stranger before turning his attention towards Yata. “Yat—”

“Yata move your ass, you can talk to your boyfriend later,” Eric rushed past, grabbing Fujishima and dragging him forward.

“He’s not—ugh!” Yata ran a hand through his hair before starting to follow his friends, urgency overriding humiliation. He looked back one last time, curiosity getting the better of him once more. The stranger just stood there, unmoving and apathetic as ever, not even phased by all the noise around him, or the sudden retreat. Yet as neutral as he looked, Yata couldn’t help but find him strangely captivating, like he couldn’t help but meet the other’s gaze.

Yata sighed as Chitose called for him again, sparing one last glance. “Hey jerk, what’s your name?”

The other seemed surprised then, his eyes widening a fraction. It was actually a bit satisfying, seeing the new, non-asshole expression.

“What can’t talk now? Spit it out,” Yata called as he started to walk backwards in the direction his friends had gone. Fuck, he was totally going to have to gun it. The other hummed, tipping his head forward acquiescingly after a while, as if he was torn about actually giving up the information.

“Fushimi Saruhiko.”

_Fushimi Saruhiko. Got it._

“See you around, Saru!”

It was bold of him, but he probably wouldn’t see the guy again, and the name made him laugh to himself triumphantly.

As sirens continued in the distance, Yata turned, sprinting away until he was but a speck in Saruhiko’s vision.

\--

The sound of Douhan’s door slamming shut barely caused her to jump, and she didn’t even look away from the soup brewing on the stove as a blurry figure dressed in black flew past her periphery, shoulders hunched and steps quick.

“How did it go?” She asked, feeling particularly haughty, and she was answered by the deafening slam of the guest bedroom door.

_Ah, so it went well._

\--

“Misaki! You’re early…”

The screen door closed behind him, joining a rumble of thunder, and he did his best to control his rapid breathing so as to not seem tired. He could totally play this off…

Yata’s mother eyed him suspiciously as he trudged into the house, trying to not look like the drowned rat he was. Thank god he’d worn his good coat. He coughed to relieve some of the air in his lungs wanting to be released. He’d run the whole way, and had managed to get back ten minutes early, just before dinner.

It was a miracle, and part of him thanked Saruhiko over and over.

“Have some faith Mom, I’m not late _every_ day,” Yata said as he kicked off his shoes and lined them up next to his siblings’. They were muddy, but the rain had washed off most of the paint colors.

_Thank fuck._

“Yes, but you’re late _most_ days.” His mother was now setting the table, eyeing him warily as she set out the appropriate utensils.

“It’s not my fault the bridge usually takes so long to cross…it’s a lot quicker than the long way though,” Yata said, hoping his mother wouldn’t try to question why he was even on the other side of town in the first place.

No such luck.

“You shouldn’t even be over there, what exactly have you been doing?” His mother paused, hand on her hip as she glared at him accusingly. The bowls in her hand clattered as they were placed down roughly onto the wooden surface, and he cringed.

“Nothing! There’s cool shops over there is all, but anyways, need help?” Yata moved closer to the table, desperately hoping to take his mother’s mind away from the topic of his afternoon whereabouts. After all, he could only lie to his mother so well…

She just ignored him, going back to the sink and furiously ringing out a washcloth, worry lacing her tone. “I don’t like the thought of you on that bridge, do you know how many accidents happen on there?”

_Ah man…_

Yata sighed. His mom stressed too much. He was careful! Plus he was pretty quick and healthy, he could get himself out of trouble, and he stayed away from the road.

He looked at the floor guiltily. It was nice, knowing she cared, but part of him did hate worrying her. It was part of the reason he didn’t like telling her when he went on one of his adventures.

“Don’t worry, we took the underpass today anyways,” Yata replied, tone softer as he laid out the rest of the place settings gently before sitting at the table.

Thinking back, they really had lucked out because of Saruhiko. He was kind of strange, and who knew how long he’d been standing there, or where he’d even come from, but he’d done them a real solid.

Even if he was kind of a dick.

Yata blushed, remembering the smirk on the other’s face as he had admitted his reasons for helping. He shook his head, trying to not let it get to him again. Surely he’d just been joking, trying to rile Yata up, and his friends had honestly only made assumptions. Regardless, the shorter knew he’d be hearing shit from his friends about it for weeks.

It didn’t help that the guy had been good looking either.

It _also_ didn’t help that he had no idea why the guy’s looks even mattered to his messed up head.

_Fuck_.

He was vaguely aware of his mother’s voice being directed at him, so he figured it was best to return to reality before he got thoroughly scolded.

“—and there was an especially bad one today, a pileup I hear!” His mother was scrubbing at a pot angrily, stopping only to point a menacing finger at her son. “If I hear you’re on that bridge you’ll be in big trouble, you got it?”

He mumbled an affirmative, feeling like a kid again, then slunk further into his seat. His friends were probably going to have a field day with that too…

“Now, could you get your brother and sister? Dinner’s done,” his mom said with a loving smile, opening a pot on the stove and allowing a truly tantalizing aroma to waft through the house.

She didn’t have to tell him twice.

\--

The mall was crowded on weekends, what with school being out and new paychecks to spend. Yata and Chitose had taken the liberty of crashing Eric’s date with Fujishima, inciting his wrath effectively.

“You losers really couldn’t entertain yourselves could you?” Eric grumbled the question as they walked out of the movie theater—the one they had just been kicked out of due to being too ‘rowdy.’ It had been mostly Chitose’s fault in Yata’s opinion. The redhead hadn’t wanted to intrude on the movie date, but Chitose was bored, and had thought it would be funny.

_Ha fucking ha._

Now they couldn’t go to the movies for two damn weeks.

Oh well, Yata reasoned. Summer was finally upon them, so it wasn’t as if he’d want to spend much time indoors anyhow. This was his favorite time of the year!

So, he definitely regretted going with Chitose to the mall. Not only because he felt bad about crashing a date, but…

In all honesty, being around Eric and Fujishima sometimes made Yata uncomfortable. Not that he had anything against the relationship, not at all. It was just the fact there was a definite air of…trust and affection…what must’ve been love, and it surrounded the two. It made Yata feel all kinds of strange, but he could never put a finger on why. Maybe he was envious? No, that didn’t seem right either. More like wonder, like an annoying curiosity and need to understand the reasons behind those private looks shared between the couple. He wondered if he’d ever find someone who he cared about so much. He didn’t like to think about it a lot, because really it was so lame. More than anything he was happy for his friends.

“Relax, we’ll leave you alone after lunch,” Chitose argued, sitting down with the group at a food court table. Somehow, they’d actually managed to find a seat.

“Uh huh,” Fujishima replied, smiling fondly as he patted Eric’s back in apology.

“If I buy you food, will you forgive me?” Chitose pleaded with Eric mockingly, and the other just flipped him off, sticking out his tongue for good measure. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Chitose got up and headed towards some unhealthy fast food stand, leaving Yata alone with the couple.

Well, maybe part of it _was_ envy. For whatever reason, his mind unhelpfully conjured up an image of Saruhiko, and Yata immediately forced it away. _Shit, what the hell?_

“So Yata, still thinking about the dreamy guy from the other week?” Eric’s voice was packed with teasing notes, and he swore he even heard Fujishima hold back a snort. Traitor.

What kind of question was that anyways?

“What the fuck? Why would I be thinkin’ of that jerk? He did us a solid yeah, but he didn’t say anything else important,” Yata scoffed, scanning the food court to avoid making eye contact.

Truth was, he’d been thinking of Saruhiko a lot for some reason. It was like the encounter with the other was permanently sketched into Yata’s brain, and he couldn’t get rid of it.

“Not to make assumptions,” Fujishima began. “But you usually only avoid eye contact when you’re lying.”

Yata choked on spit.

Double traitor.

“I do not! I ju—”

“Poor bastard, doesn’t even know how bad he’s got it,” Eric sighed wistfully.

“Fuck off,” Yata muttered as he continued to look over the vast crowd of people milling about with their screaming kids and oversized shopping bags. The mall wasn’t always his favorite place to hang out, since he could potentially run into people from school he didn’t like, but with his friends it was pretty fun. Well, when they weren’t cornering him about hot strangers. _Shit_. No, bad. Yata continued to look around in frustration, hoping the distractions would drown out his thoughts. “I barely know the gu— _oh fuck!_ ”

Of course, the universe hated him. “There he is!”

If anyone asked, Yata wouldn’t be able to tell them why in that moment he dove under the table. Not one excuse popped up in his mind. Damn.

The same tall, tired young man from a few days prior stood leaning against the wall at the edge of the food court, people watching. He wasn’t soaked with water like he had been that day, and instead had nicely styled hair and clean glasses. _Fuck_.

Even worse.

Eric and Fujishima both turned to see what the issue was, but Yata cussed at them, urging them to stop. “Don’t fucking look over! He’ll see you!”

“Are you a middle schooler?” Eric asked after a confused pause, like he couldn’t actually fathom the situation which was Yata hiding under a table from some dude. “Just go over there an—”

“I don’t want to talk to that asshole! He looks at me weird…” Yata squinted, peeking out over the top of the table to watch the uninterested figure across the room.

“Yeah, because he’s gay as fuck for you,” Eric supplied, looking over to the counter where Chitose was ordering food, impatient as ever. As if Yata wasn’t having a crisis beside him.

“W-w-what?! Don’t say shit like that,” Yata yelled in a hush, never taking his eyes off of Saruhiko. “He was joking last time…”

“Pft, was not. I’m just letting you know that you shouldn’t be so damn stupid about it, he obviously likes you,” Eric said with an irritated sigh. “Who knows why…”

Yata only groaned, not in the mood whatsoever to deal with his friend’s bullshit. In any other situation, he would’ve been ready for a full on verbal standoff, but all his mind could focus on was Saruhiko and his lazy posture and blue eyes…

Great, he sounded like a loser. Since when did he hide from people? What was he supposed to do now? If he could just make a break for the escalator…

Then he felt a light hand touch his shoulder from across the table, and he looked over to be met with Fujishima’s kind gaze.

“Say thank you at least, he really helped us out the other day.”

Images of the rainy day under the bridge flashed in his mind, along with Saruhiko’s light flush and helpful words. He’d helped them, regardless of them being complete strangers…

Thanking him was probably the best thing to do, since without him, they could’ve been in deep trouble.

_Yeah_ …

Like witchcraft, Yata began to consider it. He blinked a few times, cogs in his mind turning as Eric shared one of those secret couple looks with Fujishima that Yata couldn’t stand.

He had a point though…He’d never personally given a proper thank you…he was raised better damn it! Yeah…that’s all he’d say, just a quick thanks. Yeah. Full proof.

If he could get past looking at the other’s face at least…

_Wait…no!_ His brain really did seem to hate him, but he somehow managed to work up the courage to finally stand. If this was what having a crush meant, no matter how small, he was not a fan.

The worse thing was he actually _wanted_ to talk to Saruhiko deep down. Part of him was grateful Fujishima had given him the excuse, though Eric still didn’t seem impressed.

Yata straightened himself up, brushing his clothes off and setting his jaw like he’d never even dove to the floor in the first place. He waved over stupidly in the direction of Saruhiko until those piercing blue eyes picked up the movement and locked on him. Yata shuddered involuntarily. There was that sensation again…

The taller’s eyes widened a fraction, and he looked around, unsure if he was in fact the one being waved to. Unbelievable.

“Saru! Over here!” Yata’s yelling caused a few heads to turn, but not enough for him to be properly sheepish about it.

The taller didn’t seem to appreciate the attention on him as a few people looked, and from a distance Yata could see him click his tongue. Loser.

Yata didn’t realize he’d started smiling.

Saruhiko fumbled a bit before beginning to walk over, and Yata briefly noted his proximity to his friends, and had enough sense to move a few feet away from the table so Eric couldn’t butt in.

“You’re so short, I almost couldn’t see you over all the people,” Saruhiko said upon reaching Yata. The redhead registered the comment, resisting the urge to fight back, before glaring in annoyance.

“I’m not that short! Don’t think you’re better than me!” So much for resisting.

“Mm, and where do you get off exactly, calling me by my first name so casually?” Saruhiko’s tone was playful, like Yata was some amusing test subject. Or at least, more interesting than the other people bustling about the shopping center.

“Well, um—it’s a nice name?”

_Shit._

“Yeah, he could say it all day! Or night I mean…” Eric called from the table, completely aware he was being a total dick. The usual. Yata whipped around to glare, noticing as Fujishima tried to quiet Eric down half-heartedly. _Thanks_.

“Ugh it doesn’t matter! That’s your name!” Yata crossed his arms with a sigh, thinking maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea. He was getting flustered and he didn’t know why.

“And yours?”

_Huh_?

“W-what?” Yata eyed the other warily, brain struggling to process the turn of the conversation as it entered dangerous territory.

“What’s your name? And don’t just say Yata, because I gathered as much,” Saruhiko said smugly.

“It’s none of your fucking business, that’s—”

“Yata Misaki. You’re welcome.”

Yata was going to kill Eric. Soon. The plan was already forming in his mind, no one would ever know as long as the blood stains came out of his clothes and off his baseball bat.

He was aware of Chitose obnoxiously returning to the table with piles of food, trying his best to whisper but failing. “Hey, is that Yata’s boyfriend from the other week?”

He hated his friends.

“What are you doing here anyways? All you were doing was staring at people like a creep! Are you following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, _Misaki_. This is the mall you know.”

Well yeah, that was true. Misaki gaped, having no real response. It was the most popular mall in town, given that it had the most stores and food places. Still, why the reserved, yet unfairly good looking, stranger from a week or so earlier was there still wasn’t clear to Yata.

And now he fucking knew his name. Perfect.

Then another thought lodged itself into Yata’s brain, begging to be voiced despite Yata’s confusion.

He’d never exactly seen Saruhiko around before.

“Hey, where did you go to school? I’ve never seen you… _ever_ ,” Yata said as the other now leaned against an empty chair from a nearby table, old jeans stretching as he stood dressed in the same jacket from before.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, looking away, but something about the expression was more troubled this time. “My parents…didn’t really care if I went to school.”

The pout on Saruhiko’s face…wasn’t unappealing, and the fact made Yata swallow. He was totally aware of his friends sitting at the café table a few feet away, whispering and watching like a couple of vultures.

Even then, he felt the conversation was heading down a bad road, so he did his best to lighten it.

“O-oh. That’s lucky though! Still, I’ve never seen you—”

“Does that disappoint you?” Saruhiko had an amused smile on his face again, and he stepped closer. Yata’s face flushed, and he willed himself to believe it was just because of the attention, not the fact there was any kind of attraction for the guy (but that was looking less and less likely).

“N-no! You’re just weird! And you stick out…”

“Actually you blend in pretty well!” Chitose’s voice carried over from the table. “I hear only Yata noticed you when you were standing over there!”

_Fuck you._

“Whatever! Don’t listen to them,” Yata huffed, casting his gaze to the floor. “Ugh, just…thanks for the tip the other day! About the underpass I mean.”

Saruhiko shrugged, small smirk still gracing his delicately structured face. “I don’t like the busy areas of the city. I know a lot of short cuts.”

_Whoa…so cool…_

He stared back up at the taller boy, eyes slightly wide and a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth. He faintly heard Eric hum mockingly in the background, but he for once, couldn’t find the will to care. Things weren’t going to get _more_ humiliating after all.

He wondered, somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, what it must be like to feel drawn to someone. To want to be friends or…whatever, with someone so bad. Did it make your stomach feel this weird?

He shook it off, trying to not shame himself any more than he had already. He was probably overthinking things, he’d never been attracted to someone right out the gate like this. However, it almost felt like a challenge, a feeling he wanted to explore. And where was the harm?

He didn’t know what was happening, or what had come over him, but he was never one to not act on instinct. It was both an insult and a compliment he got a lot. Impulsivity was his strength and weakness. Regardless, he figured it was safe to trust his gut this time, and the words came out before he could even fully process them.

“Can you show me?”

Eyebrows were raised in return, followed by a barely there smile which spoke much louder than words.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented and showed support for the last chapter! It was such a nice surprise to see ppl interested in this fic ^^ I'm also posting this on Yata's birthday (in Japan at least lol) so I just want to say I love him and he's the best bean *_* Enjoy!

The waterfront near the mall was barren, a huge contrast to the large crowds not even a mile away from it. The sun reflected off the water, shedding light on the old and rusted oil drums and pipes littered about the glistening body. There weren’t any animals, not large ones anyways. Yata could hear crickets though, and various other bugs along with the rustling in the low brush. The sand was tarnished with unidentifiable black gunk and cigarettes, a picturesque scene which was left to rot by civilization as industry took its toll on the land.

Or at least, that was what he’d heard a teacher say once in elementary school.

Saruhiko led him away from the water and around an imperceptible bend by the large rocks, placing them in front of a large tunnel Yata had never seen before in all his years of skulking around the place.

“Whoa…where does it go?” Yata’s voice was laced with childlike wonder as he peered into the seemingly never ending tunnel. Normally he may have felt frightened despite his bravery, after all, people were rumored to have died here, eaten up by monsters and legends from old ghost tales. Other rumors told of real villains, murderers and killers that let their victims decompose or sink into the waters nearby. But having Saruhiko there, who seemed rather knowledgeable about the place, made Yata feel strangely calm and relaxed. 

The taller smiled. It was a small kind of grin, one that was both amused and…something else that sent Yata’s heart racing despite his best efforts to keep it under control.

“I’ll show you,” Saruhiko said, gesturing for Yata to begin strolling down the path. The redhead nodded, an excited grin forming on his face as he trailed his fingers along the frigid walls of the tunnel. Saruhiko followed, almost right by his side, but lagging a step behind.

Ever since leaving the mall, they hadn’t talked much, but it had been far from awkward. Yata had barely noticed the lack of small talk, and was actually sort of grateful for it. The short walk from the mall had seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and it was a strange sense of comfort he’d never had with anyone before.

Despite the relaxed silence from before, now Yata was buzzing with questions, and he was sure his excitement showed.

“How did you even know this was here? It’s awesome!” Yata looked at the other, and Saruhiko fixed his glasses in thought. It was a cute habit, in Yata’s opinion. As he waited, he swung his hands at his side, only stopping when he happened to brush against Saruhiko’s hand several times. He was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting. The only source were the streams of the day’s last sunlight which managed to drift in through the cracks of the tunnel, giving the space an otherworldly feel.

“The streets in the city are pretty bad, there’s accidents all the time,” Saruhiko began with a shrug. “It’s just less dangerous this way…”

The other seemed to hesitate after that, and Yata could tell the sentence wasn’t meant to end there, but the other had purposefully halted before providing an ‘and’. Like some weird type of insurance…

He wondered for a second if it was alright to ask. After all, sometimes people had super personal reasons for why they did the things they did. However, Saruhiko was someone Yata couldn’t help but wonder about, and so he figured it’d be worth it.

“What?” Yata raised an eyebrow, his question echoing throughout the tunnel along with their footsteps.

The other didn’t respond, only making a nervous, humming noise, as if that would appease Yata. Wrong.

Yata spun around, blocking the other’s path. The echoing on the walls stopped as they ceased walking, and Yata eyed Saruhiko warily. Come to think of it, maybe walking down a dark tunnel with a reserved and total stranger hadn’t been the best idea. But the boy was so frail and laid back Yata doubted he was a threat. No, he was eyeing him for other reasons. Saruhiko wasn’t acting suspicious…he was acting embarrassed.

Yata spotted the subtle fidgeting of Saruhiko’s hands, the repeated fixing of his glasses. And then the real sign, the light shade of red dancing on his cheekbones.

Yata smirked then, peering at Saruhiko with eyes that seemed to say, ‘spit it out.’

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I was thinking I could show it to you. In case you and your hoodlum ways got you into trouble again.”

The last statement almost felt tacked on, spoken a tad faster than the previous. It was so _slight_ , but Yata noticed. Saruhiko’s eyes were averted to the strange markings on the tunnel wall, and that was when it clicked.

A curse began and quickly died on the tip of Yata’s tongue as he processed the response, and he stood still, blinking stupidly for several moments. Saruhiko clicked his tongue, taking the opportunity to maneuver around Yata and continue walking down the path.

That seemed to bring him back, and Yata turned with a stumble, catching up to the other boy in a few quick strides. “E-eh? You’ve…I mean…hm…”

Yata flushed at his loss for words, since when did he hide what he was thinking? But he didn’t feel confident in voicing his assumptions, no matter how obviously correct they probably were.

_You’ve wanted to show me? Since the other week?_

Yata couldn’t help the pleased feeling which ran through him, even despite the embarrassment.

“B-but you just met me and—”

_And we’re technically not friends, not yet._

His friends’ teasing from before flashed through his mind, but now it seemed suddenly more plausible. Was Saruhiko actually interested in him for real?

That pleased feeling involuntarily intensified.

The other groaned, and his shoulders tensed, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “I frequent the Eastside Park.”

Yata’s internal crisis was put on hold as those words sunk in, and he squinted in confusion as he watched Saruhiko absentmindedly trace over some weird symbols on the wall.

_Okay, what the hell? The park?_

“And…?”

Saruhiko rolled his eyes, like Yata had completely missed some obvious conclusion from the poor excuse for an explanation.

“ _And_ , you and your thug friends hang out in that park a lot,” Saruhiko grumbled, still stiffly walking in front of Yata.  His feet, clad in ratty, faded converse, dragged, and the mild scrapping bounced off the curved walls.

“Hey my friends aren’t thugs! We just—”

“Graffiti public property?”

“ _Spray painting_ isn’t what I would call a dangerous crime, who c—”

Yata stopped suddenly, connecting the dots.

_“I frequent the Eastside Park.”_

The park. The park where he hung out with his friends at least once every week.

_What?_

The lightbulb went off, and Yata felt his stomach explode with a garden’s worth of butterflies.

_Wait, no! That’s weird!_

“Y-you’ve been watching me?” Yata sputtered, slowing his pace.

“I never said _that_ , I just happen to see you…often,” Saruhiko muttered the last of his sentence, shoulders tensing another degree, having Yata vaguely wondering if his back was in pain. _Stand up straight idiot._

“The fuck? You’re my stalker now then?”

Saruhiko actually scoffed at that, turning to face Yata as he walked backwards. His face was flushed, Yata saw as Saruhiko passed through a beam of light, but there was still an unbearably smug smile on the taller’s face. “Yeah right. My…friend, I suppose, owns a house on the edge of the park, therefore I’m there a lot. _And_ , it’s just hard to ignore someone so loud.”

Yata scowled, quickening his steps once more until he was close to the other boy again. Who knew how long or fast they’d actually been walking. Yata had stopped paying attention. “Oh, but you were thinking ‘bout showing me this place huh? I still say you’re a stalker!”

Another scoff, and Saruhiko was pouting, giving Yata all kinds of weird rushes of feeling which he did _not_ want to think about.

“I’m not a stalker moron, I only noticed you about two weeks ago. It’s not like I’ve been staring at you for _months_ or anything,” Saruhiko mumbled.

“Doesn’t explain why you’d be staring at me for two _weeks_ either,” Yata supplied, eyeing the other with caution.

Well, no, Yata wasn’t that stupid. He somewhat knew why the taller would’ve been looking at him, but entertaining the idea had Yata flushing something fierce. It was obvious that Saruhiko wasn’t the type to come out and own up to it either, so Yata was forced to stew in his own awkwardness.

He hated to admit it, but this strange form of flirting was surprisingly easy…if it was flirting. It _felt_ like it, but maybe it was only from his end. What did Yata know though? He didn’t have experience with this shit.

In all honesty, Yata had never thought about…girls before, or even guys. He figured no one had sparked his interest yet, and that was why crushes weren’t on his mind. But now, having the tall, slim form of Saruhiko swaying in front of him was making him feel a whole new realm of emotions. Not that he had a problem with…with…being like _that_ with someone _,_ but he’d rather think about it alone than with the possible object of his…affections…only a few feet in front of him. Plus, admitting that his stupid friends were actually right was a serious hit to his dignity.

“I happened to be people watching, and you were more entertaining than my associate’s old stories,” Saruhiko explained as he faced forward, though not very convincingly.

“Uh huh…” Yata squinted at the other’s back. “And you wanted to show me this because? The real reason I mean.”

Well shit, that was bold, even for him. Yata couldn’t help it, and anyways, he didn’t like people giving him bullshit.

Saruhiko huffed, his demeanor suddenly annoyed at the turn of the conversation. _Gotcha_. Yata smiled smugly, a light feeling of triumph coursing through him.

Saruhiko fixed his glasses again, his pace slowing until they were walking side by side. “Don’t ask questions you apparently know the answers to,” he muttered, and Yata’s heart skipped. What the hell? He’d just met this guy, it shouldn’t feel like such an achievement to get that kind of admission.

“Plus,” Saruhiko went on, his face becoming clearer as more sunlight began to shine down on him. “I don’t really like nature, but this shortcut ends at the park, and it’s not _too_ bad.”

“What do ya—”

It was then Yata realized they’d reached the end of the tunnel, and he was shocked at how he hadn’t even noticed, too focused on the other’s voice. It had almost felt too fast, how had they made it this far only on foot? The tunnel really was a shortcut…

The sun, now harsh and blinding, made him squint as he walked out onto the grass. He was taken aback by the chilling breeze that greeted him, for it had been absent in the shelter of the tunnel. He gasped, staring at the beautiful, open field which was part of Eastside Park. It was a more desolate section of the area, the kind where children rarely frolicked due to the lack of playgrounds and benches. It was untouched, flooded with flowers and vibrant foliage.

_Whoa._

Yata had been feeling pretty ‘whoa’ all day it seemed. He withdrew from the tunnel completely, taking in the landscape. The faint sounds of traffic reached his ears, and he turned to his right, noticing the main road just in the distance. The main road that would take him right to his home if he followed it. Awesome.

Even with the lush land, Yata still noted the complete lack of animals. No birds, no squirrels or rodents. Lucky for Yata though, since he could totally see himself lounging around the area for a nap. Dusk would soon be settling on the park, and the vivid blues and pinks of the common flowers would lose their brightness. A shame, but Yata had no doubt that he’d be spending a lot of daylight hours there now anyways.

Yata looked to Saruhiko then, who was now leaning against a tree in the field, staring at Yata with that same, serene smile from before. Yata grinned, approaching him.

“You’re gonna have to show me more shortcuts, I’m going to hold you to it!” Yata couldn’t believe how much faster the walk home would be now that he knew about the secret path, and he was extremely grateful for meeting Saruhiko in that moment.

“Even though I’m a stalker?” Saruhiko smirked, pushing away from the tree and inching closer to Yata. Despite the cold, Yata could feel the warmth just a few inches in front of him, it had Yata leaning forward slightly with its enticement.

“You just gotta make it up to me dumbass!”

Yata didn’t know what compelled him to make such an invite to see the other again, but Saruhiko seemed cool, and he caused Yata’s curiosity to spike. Teasing from his friends and internal panic be damned, he didn’t see the harm in hanging out again.

Saruhiko gave a pleased hum, sidestepping Yata and beginning his trek in the opposite direction of the road, and Yata figured he or his friend must live more towards the inner part of the neighborhood.

As Saruhiko walked off into the distance he turned, calling out to Yata one last time. “When exactly will I be making it up to you?”

Really, Yata wished Saruhiko could stay longer, but he’d settle for any other time if it meant more exploring.

However, Yata suddenly remembered he had a few errands to run on Sunday, as he traditionally did for his mother. The shops where she got her ingredients were nearer to the center of town, at the border right before the richer suburban neighborhoods started.

“How about tomorrow? We can go to central?”

Saruhiko bit his lip, and Yata thought he saw an uncharacteristic flash of worry in those usually neutral eyes, but it was there and gone before he could make much sense of it.

Saruhiko nodded, gesturing to the surrounding area, silently suggesting they meet back at the same spot. Yata nodded, and then they were both off in their separate directions, leaving Yata feeling giddy in a way he never had before.

\--

“How did it—”

“Shut it,” Saruhiko interrupted, slamming the door to Douhan’s house with no regard for the old structure’s protests. He’d been expecting this. “You shouldn’t know about any ‘ _it’_ in the first place.”

But she always did. He also didn’t know why she bothered to ask how it went. She tended to have a way of reading him, and right now he couldn’t hide the aura of stupid bliss which was no doubt radiating off him.

All because of a stupid meetup, because of a promised next one. Whatever.

Douhan smiled at him knowingly, proving his suspicions. However, there was a limit to the things she should’ve known. He hadn’t told her about going anywhere today.

Saruhiko wouldn’t give her so much credit as to say the skill was born from natural intuition or social prowess either. Slowly, he let his eyes drift over to her living room, catching sight of the coffee rings staining her table and the old photo albums she insisted on keeping. He never understood why.

Among all the mess though, there were two chipped mugs, half full. Fresh.

He thought it was strange for the door to be unlocked. It meant she hadn’t had time after the home’s previous visitor had left. Judging from the partial spill on the table and the tripped over side stand, they’d left rather hastily too.

_That’s mature._

Douhan followed his gaze, not at all bothered about the obvious discovery. She was a private person, but when it came to sharing things between them, she preferred to not have any blind spots.

“Gossiping again?” Saruhiko asked as he walked towards the guest room. He was tired, more so than usual, but he wouldn’t think about why that was. Absentmindedly, he drifted his hand over one of the blonde’s bookcases as he walked, noting how it was in desperate need of reorganizing.

Douhan shrugged. “Not so much gossiping as listening. Fuse came over here to vent about how childish you’re being, but I’m sure you already suspected that…”

The silent question didn’t escape him, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with his social problems. It was hardly his fault that before he’d gone to the mall, Fuse had approached him, infuriated about things which didn’t matter.

It had erupted to nothing less than a full out fight, and he didn’t know how to go about resolving it. He was hardly used to having _any_ disagreements with the other, at least not anymore. Regardless of the issue, he wasn’t exactly ready to share any of that with Douhan yet.

Well, she probably already knew. Still, hopefully simple answers would suffice.

“We had a disagreement, nothing more. He should mind his own business,” Saruhiko grumbled, moving to open the bedroom door, his only chance of relief from all this. “You all should actually.”

Douhan actually snorted at that, and he sent her a flat look. Why did these discussions have to be uselessly prolonged every time?

She shook her head, finally moving to begin picking up her living room in a rare show of care for the decaying property. It was a normal thing to do after the end of a conversation, but Saruhiko was compelled to stay. After all this time, he knew when the blonde had said her piece, and he also knew when he could afford to not hear it.

This was apparently not one of those times.

“You know that’s not possible when it comes to you,” she said, but her voice was softer, fonder, and he neither had the will nor the energy to scorn it. So instead he clicked his tongue, and finally moved inside the room, refusing to acknowledge how deep down, he probably appreciated it. Maybe.

As he took a step, a sharp pain shot through his side, and he wasn’t fast enough to hide his instantaneous wince. _Great_ …

He clutched his hip, closing his eyes tightly as the pain took its course through his bones and muscles. Saruhiko tried not to groan when he was relieved from the agony after a few moments. Cautiously, he stood up straight again, testing for any aftershocks. When there were none, he gave a relaxed sigh which was completely short lived.

Now he had another issue to deal with.

Saruhiko’s hand was frozen on the door handle, and he could feel Douhan’s eyes boring into his back, searing. He scolded himself for not hiding the reaction faster, for letting her keep him out in the open, but maybe that had been her plan all along.

He was ready for the lecture, for the advice which normally came with stuff like this. It was his own fault sure, but he didn’t need people meddling in his affairs. He was ready with his counter arguments, ready to ease her of any worry, to tell her he was fine.

But he didn’t have to.

After another beat of the strained silence, Douhan just sighed deeply behind him, continuing to pick up her littered coffee table. She only paused one more time afterwards, and he was grateful. “This is why we worry. _Don’t_ overdo it.”

And that was all that had to be said apparently, and the tension between them dissolved as if by magic. Funny, how she could do that.

Saruhiko sighed, not seeing any cause in fighting the demand for now. Right then, he preferred to be alone with his own thoughts of Misaki, and the butterflies swirling obnoxiously in his stomach. He turned back to walk into his room, when one last teasing, sugary statement hit his ears.

“Have fun on your next date.”

\--

“Home early again?” Yata’s mother’s voice drifted to his ears as he walked through the door, and he took a seat at the kitchen table idly, triumphant. It had been a good week.

“Yeah, I took a quicker way home someone showed me,” Yata replied with a smile.

“Someone?” His mother paused in her task of looking through the mail, her gaze questioning. Right, his mother always had to be nosy.

Yata rubbed the back of his head, trying his best not to look embarrassed. The last thing he needed was his mom meddling in his personal life.

“Yeah, just this friend I ran into at the mall an—”

“Misaki! You didn’t tell me you were going to the mall!”

Yata flinched at the higher tone of voice, and he held up his hands defensively. “W-what? Did you need something from the mall?”

As he spoke, he was aware of his younger brother skulking into the kitchen, his face pouty and annoyed.

“Well, there was that construction accid—Minoru! I told you, you aren’t allowed to have any sweets tonight!”

Yata laughed from his position at the table as his brother sighed, having been effectively caught. He felt sort of sympathetic, but better his brother get scolded than Yata himself. “What did you do now Minoru?”

“Nothing,” Minoru mumbled, kicking at the floor. “Just broke a few cups…”

“A few? You broke a whole case of them!” His mom had her hands on her hips now, continuing to reprimand her younger son. Again, at least it saved Yata. “If you don’t watch out, the shadow beast will get you!”

Minoru seemed to pout more at that, and Yata was sure the younger would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t afraid of getting in more trouble. “Mom, c’mon! I’m way too old for that story. Plus, the shadow beast only comes when you’re about to die remember?”

His mother hummed, nodding slowly, her expression marred with struggle to remember details of the story she’d told them throughout their childhoods. “Oh, you’re right. I used to have that story down too…to think one day you’d know it better than me.”

“Kind of a brutal story to tell kids don’t ya think?” Yata jumped into the conversation with a laugh. “Even I remembered being terrified when you told it to me as a kid.”

“Past tense? You know the old legend would still scare you if I told it,” his mom said with a smirk. “In fact Misaki, you’ve always been against _any_ kind of scary st—”

“Mom! Stop okay? It’s embarrassing,” Yata protested, yet it was for nothing as his mother’s loud laugh carried throughout the house.

\--

Central always made Yata a bit uncomfortable. It was closer to the rich neighborhoods, meaning more snobby and better dressed kids roamed about, sometimes giving him the once over and laughing. It caused Yata to want to sink into the ground. Not that he really cared what they thought, he couldn’t give two shits. Those people didn’t know him anyways, it was more the unwanted attention which got to him.

Central was fun however, given that it had nicer shops, large parks, and tourist spots. It also got the best produce brought to the grocery stores, so Yata’s mother often sent him there to pick up prime ingredients. When he was younger, Yata and his friends would hang out around the supposedly haunted spots in the area, mostly against Yata’s will, as he was usually forced there. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Yata despised going near anything considered paranormal. It was hard to avoid though, since central was the historic hotspot of the area.

Yata had been worried initially about going there with Saruhiko. Maybe the other would be into that kind of thing, and Yata would have to pretend to not be freaked out about going on graveyard tours and shit. He felt lame about it to this day. What kind of grown man actually believed that stuff anymore?

Luckily, Saruhiko had been pretty against the idea, staring at the fancy, historic homes with disdain as they passed them on the way into town.

"You don't think they're cool?" Yata quirked a brow, trying for the hundredth time to not automatically lean in Saruhiko's direction. The walk hadn't been uncomfortable, in fact, they weren't even in town and Yata was having fun. Saruhiko listened to him talk about his favorite games and movies, even his friends' stupid adventures. In between, they took to bickering playfully in a way which made Yata laugh and flush occasionally. It was hard to resist his weird urge to grab Saruhiko's hand when their fingers brushed, or nudge the other with his shoulder when he strayed too close...

_Stop it, you just met him! This isn't even a date..._

Regardless, Yata couldn't ignore the magnetic pull between them, and he'd been mindfully making sure he was at least a feet or two away as they walked side by side. Yata had originally asked Saruhiko to take them through another shortcut, since the usual way to central was pretty congested, and it was the first time he'd seen Saruhiko look unenthusiastic about the prospect. The taller had clicked his tongue, but had relented in the end upon seeing Yata's perplexed and mildly disappointed face. Yata didn't understand the dislike for the neighborhood they were in, but then again, he couldn't say he  _loved_ the place.

It was the historic district, the street lined with old mansions with plaques in front of them, telling when it was constructed and who had lived there. It wasn't  _deserted_ , summer was the tourist season after all, but it was far more peaceful than the typical way.

The mansions, white and beige and  _grand_ , towered over the small tour groups as he and Saruhiko walked by. Yata shivered when he caught the words "haunted" coming from one of the guides. Yeah, no way did he  _love_ these homes. They were pretty though, he was sure his mom would love them. The intricate designs and restored pillars almost made it seem like they had been transported to another time.

"They're just houses," Saruhiko mumbled, scowling at the obnoxious neon signs which directed people to pay good money for a house tour. "I don't see what the big deal is." It was almost cute how pouty Saruhiko sounded, and Yata grinned as the other busied himself with staring at the sidewalk.

Yata thought about that as they passed though, admiring the flowerbeds and wide lawns in front of each house, barred off by black iron and 'no trespassing' signs. "Maybe it's the haunted thing, or people are just history nerds," Yata snorted, and he was delighted when Saruhiko did too. His skin felt hot when Saruhiko grinned in amusement, and  _damn, damn your face Saruhiko._ Yata loved being able to pull new reactions out of him. They'd only been hanging out for a while, but every grin or smirk was a personal triumph and each had Yata's heart racing.

"Only idiots believe those houses are actually haunted," Saruhiko went on, not bothering to look both ways when he crossed the street. Yata had half a mind to scold him, but didn’t want to interrupt. _Be more careful..._

"They act like serial killers lived there, when it was just old fat aristocrats,” Saruhiko finished, his eyes sharp.

Yata tried not to be too offended, given he  _did_  believe in the paranormal, mostly because he'd never shook off the childhood fear, but whatever. He could work with this to his advantage anyways. For whatever reason, he wanted to see if Saruhiko liked being challenged.

"How do you know? Have you ever been inside?"

"I read the plaques," Saruhiko shrugged, and Yata smirked openly.

"So you don't know if it’s not haunted..." Yata hummed, his gut twisting a little at how badly this could go. His goal was to simply play around, maybe embarrass Saruhiko, but if Saruhiko actually wanted to prove him wrong by going inside..."Maybe you're just saying that because you're scared and don't want to go inside."

Yata was surely screwing himself over.  _Oh god what have you done. You'll never survive._

Old stories started to flood his brain, the one about the ghost bride in the adjacent house, or the missing girl from house 210, and  _oh god_  the rumors about the abusive father in house 204...

They were stupid myths, meant to scare grade schoolers and make money, but Yata felt goosebumps even thinking about them.  _I'm gonna die._

Saruhiko's response surprised him though.

"No way," he said quickly, glaring one last time at the large, tinted windows of one of the bigger homes. "And it's not because I'm  _scared_. I don't need to hear a tour guide talk for hours about the restoration of wallpaper."

Yata blinked, letting the relief wash over him as Saruhiko eyed him critically, as if there was more he wished to say.  _He does that a lot_ , Yata realized, and all feelings of stress were replaced with amusement. Saruhiko really was a loner...

"If you say so," Yata said smugly, walking ahead of Saruhiko with confidence. It felt nice to win, even if it was a complete sham. "Sometimes listening to people talk is nice though."

There was a beat of silence as Yata's sneakers dragged on the sidewalk, and he halted, looking back to see Saruhiko with that same torn expression on his face, light flush gracing his features, and Yata choked up. _Damnit, stop doing that._

Just when Yata thought he was starting to familiarize himself with Saruhiko’s personality, he did _this_ shit. "Um..."

Saruhiko scoffed, catching up in a few brisk strides as he recovered, refusing to meet Yata's eyes even when their hands brushed together. When Saruhiko finally spoke, Yata felt like he was on another planet.

Or well, maybe cloud nine was more accurate. _Fuck_.

"Why listen to them? You’re here."

\--

And Saruhiko did listen to him, in his own weird, grumpy way. When a group of wealthy college students threw Yata dirty looks because of how he'd been dressed, Saruhiko sneered at them something fierce, and proceeded to indulge Yata's whole rant as they piled groceries into their cart. Then before Yata knew it, he was babbling about everything.

How he didn't want to finish school, how much he loved his mom, how mischievous his siblings could be, all aspects of his life slowly laid bare as if Saruhiko was a lifetime friend, and not the mysterious boy Yata had spent roughly two days knowing.

"Yeah but, that's why I want to move out soon," Yata said, checking a few things off his list and praying Saruhiko wasn't terribly bored with him. "Not super far away but just...getting my own place would be nice."

"Mm," Saruhiko hummed, glaring menacingly at the bag of vegetables Yata loaded into the cart. Yata laughed a bit, pushing the bag towards Saruhiko's face teasingly as the other swatted it away.  _Cute_.

Sparing Saruhiko, Yata looked over his cart again, nodding to himself.  _That should be everything._

_"_ So, you don't like the guy your mom married then? Is that the issue?" Saruhiko asked, and Yata was quick to clear things up.

"No, not at all! He's great..." Yata said, letting his features fall into a fond expression. His mom...she was so happy now, having a complete family, even if his stepfather was out of town a lot. But... "He's really good to her, to all of us. But, I don't know, I feel like I kinda don't fit in there? My siblings belong with their mom and dad, but the picture looks off when you toss me in there. I don't mind it exactly but--"

Yata thought about his life, his goals for the future, making it on his own and proving he could be something. It was important to him, and the pride began swelling in his chest.

_But I want to make a home for myself too._

He wondered how Saruhiko felt about that kind of stuff. The taller did come off as apathetic at times, but Yata could tell there was more drive in him than he let on. Saruhiko was smart too, observant. What did he want to do in the future? What was his family like? Yata didn't realize how badly he wanted to know.

_I want to know more about Saruhiko._

Yata looked up after it took the other a while to respond, worried he'd somehow overshared, but Saruhiko's eyes were full of nothing but...well, Yata didn't know how to define that emotion, but he knew the hints of fondness and hesitance in those eyes made comfort crash over him in waves. "Mm, I see."

_Yeah..._

He coughed, not really sure how to deal with the giddiness swirling in his stomach, and chose instead to act on his urges. "Uh...what's your family like?"

Saruhiko frowned at that, looking away as if to think about his response. It was strange to Yata, he never had to think about how to describe his family. His family was great, but he knew it wasn't the case for everyone. Maybe he shouldn't have asked, but then again, Saruhiko had asked about _his_ , so he thought it was okay.

"I'm not close to them." Saruhiko's shoulders were tense, and Yata decided to drop it after that for sure, but Saruhiko surprised him by continuing. "My...father w--he just wasn’t around a lot, so I got to do as I pleased. I’m used to having a lot of free time."

Yata noted the past tense but didn't press, no matter how much he itched to. He knew better. For whatever reason, even the little tidbit of information about Saruhiko made him happy anyway. It made him want to make Saruhiko happy too. 

_Well, you can be close to other people then!_

"Lucky me then heh..." Yata coughed, pushing his cart towards the registers in a way that hopefully looked normal. He practically  _felt_ Saruhiko's gaze boring into his back.

"Why do you say that?" Saruhiko's voice was edged with playfulness, and the smirk Yata had come to find rather attractive was no doubt plastered on his face. But, well, Yata never backed down from a challenge.

"I get to be around you more then, is all, right?"

He turned around, and the blush he saw was worth his own.

Their hands brushed not so accidentally as they took the groceries out of the cart and loaded them onto the conveyor belt. Sometime after, Yata squawked stupidly when the cashier had to get his attention after he zoned out staring at Saruhiko, and he thought then that he was definitely in trouble. He paid quickly, trying to even out his breathing as Saruhiko stepped forward, brushing against his side to grab some of the bags with irritation.

It was really warm outside, summer had begun after all, but Saruhiko was still wearing a jacket, and Yata glared at the offending material. He wondered what Saruhiko's bare skin felt like as they left the store, not bothering to mind the space between them.

\--

They took the long way this time, through the city, an unspoken excuse to talk to each other more, though Yata noticed Saruhiko always made an effort to be a few steps ahead of him.

"Ugh, I can't believe the first time you saw me was when I fell out of that tree," Yata groaned as he cursed Bandou, who had a habit of getting his frisbee lodged in the trees at the park. Yata had a habit of plummeting to the ground in an effort to retrieve them.

"I told you, I knew you would need my help," Saruhiko sighed, eyes darting around the corner as they crossed the street to make sure cars weren't coming. _Vigilant now huh?_

Saruhiko shook his head in mock disappointment. "Someone who can't even climb a tree..."

"Hey those things are tall!"

"Oh? Are you admitting you're short then  _Misaki_?"

Yata choked, beaten once again. Damn, why did Saruhiko have to be so fast with his comebacks? Not fair. Nevertheless, as annoyed as Yata tried to seem, the grin wouldn't leave his face. "Whatever, you still admit to wanting to help me even after seeing me fall."

Yata's palms felt clammy, because really, what he should've said was 'but you still like me,' but it was too out there, even for him. Plus, he wasn’t fully certain if Saruhiko had been joking before, in the tunnel, or under the freeway. Either way, Yata was content like this, for now.

Well, his arms kind of hurt from carrying the bags for so long, but whatever.

“So—”

Suddenly, Yata was yanked back violently, nearly slipping and dropping the groceries as his feet scuffed against the concrete. Yata's breath was knocked out of him, and he heard a light screech as he was forced back.

"Watch it!" Saruhiko's arms came around his waist, pulling him further onto the sidewalk as a car sped by, honking loudly at them even though the walk sign was  _clearly_ on. Yata's heart raced, partly from the shock of the car running the light, but also Saruhiko's body pressed against his, the smell of something vaguely floral flooding his senses as he started to relax.

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, not moving away as he watched the car speed off. "Honestly..."

"Um...Saru..."

The other tensed behind him, which caused his hold to tighten as a result, and Yata tried so hard, _so hard_ not to fall into it. "Ah, right," Saruhiko whispered, clearing his throat as he pulled back, a little too slow to be considered normal, as if...

_As if he didn't want to._

_No. No, not going down that road._ Yata scolded himself, shaking the thoughts away to be dealt with at another time. Preferably when he was at home, in his room,  _not_ with Saruhiko.

"Uh haha that was a close one! Yeah." Yata coughed, clutching his bag a little tighter than necessary and hoping he hadn't ruined any of the contents. He glanced down the street as Saruhiko picked up his own bags, glaring at the direction the car had gone. "What an asshole."

"Yeah, I'm surprised how many idiots don't know how to drive." Saruhiko walked past him, continuing their journey home, and Yata followed after a moment of confusion.

_Man, come on, it wasn't a big deal._

Well, no. Saruhiko had majorly saved him there, and he'd felt so nice-- _stop_.  _Later. Home. Bed._

Surprisingly, even after the tense incident, the atmosphere between them returned pretty easily, the comfortable silence and easy mood making Yata forget his near death experience. But, he felt like he needed to say something.

"It was lucky you were there ha," Yata said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks."

Saruhiko shrugged, his usual response, but Yata didn't miss the small grin threatening to grow on his face. "It's whatever."

\--

Douhan held the phone between her cheek and her shoulder as she reorganized her book case, the faded covers and tattered pages threatening to fall off as she moved them.

“Are you going to apologize?” She said, and she meant the question as less of a suggestion and more of a command. She was too old for this.

She glanced outside as the sun hit her back through the blinds, strong enough to make it through even the densest of foliage. She glanced to her coffee table in boredom, eyeing the official letters from the city which advised her to clean up her yard. She never paid them any mind.

On the other end of the line, she could hear Fuse sigh loudly, his fingers pausing as he typed on his computer. “Why would I do that?”

Douhan smiled at the childish tone. Fuse was unashamedly blunt, but rational, and hearing him pout was always a treat. It was almost as amusing as when Saruhiko did it.

“You’re the one who started the fight,” Douhan reminded, then continued with a smug smile. “Does Enomoto know about this? Maybe I should tell him to scold you.”

It was an overused trick of hers, bringing up the other’s boyfriend, but it had a high success rate.

Fuse groaned into the receiver, the sound choppy due to a poor connection, and Douhan’s lips quirked in triumph. “Don’t pull that, what I did wasn’t wrong and you know it.”

“Do I?” Douhan grimaced as a book fell apart in her hands, the binding worn and damaged after one too many uses. “Who are you to decide that?”

Douhan’s voice was a touch more grim now, both from her book dilemma and the conversation, and she heard Fuse sigh in defeat after a few tense moments.

“I was just worried about him…that’s all,” he finally whispered, the silence shattered even from the gentleness of the statement.

Douhan’s eyes softened as she stared at the scattered pages on her floor, a light hum leaving her lips as she admired the reasoning. Well, she couldn’t exactly fault him for it.

They all worried about Saruhiko, and each other.

_But_ …

“Yes, I understand,” she said, bending down to collect a page littered with symbols and sketches. “But you know…despite that…”

_Despite everything…_

“Saruhiko deserves to be happy sometimes.”

The silence was stifling, broken only by Fuse making a choked sound through the phone. She gripped the phone in her hand, tapping her nail on the hard surface as she waited. While Douhan doubted he’d agree right away, she hoped the words would sit with him. Again, they were far too old for this.

The response she got was the dial tone, the harshness of it ringing in her ears as she crumpled up the page in her palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All comments are appreciated! idk when I'll be posting the next chapter, but hopefully soon <3 
> 
> Tumblr: its-love-u-asshole  
> Twitter: itsloveuasshole


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....hi. LOL okay, so I'm sorry for not updating this in a super long time. I've sort of moved fandoms, so I'll be honest, updates for this will be super slow. I don't want to say I'll never finish it, because you never know, but that's where I'm at as of right now. I did want to post for Saruhiko's birthday though, so that's what I'm doing! Enjoy  <3

Yata had forgotten how fucking long it took to walk out of the center of the city. They were nearing the edge of the area though, and most of the buildings around them were abandoned and crumpling, having been uninhabited for decades. It was technically another historic area, a glimpse at a lost time when industries had just begun to take over the town. But of course, it wasn't pretty, so it wasn't as popular as the old rich neighborhoods. Yata didn't doubt some of these buildings were haunted too though, the old factories and poor quarters looking downright eerie with their molded structures and dirtied windows. He wondered if they were pitch black inside, or shadowed just enough to make any visitors feel downcast…

He would never know. No one was allowed inside them, mostly because it was too much of a hassle to renovate the buildings, especially when people found them less interesting. The plaques and exhibits were on the outside instead, old documents and photographs protected by glass cases, if they were still intact anyways.

Yata wondered why he'd never taken interest in them before, but it didn't exactly matter now.

It only took Yata a few seconds to realize there were no longer footsteps behind him, only the sound of the light whoosh of the beginning summer breeze.

“Huh? Saru—”

Yata turned his head, spinning around until his eyes met the familiar form of the taller boy. Yata blushed despite himself, still not completely used to the other’s presence. Lame.

Honestly, what was up with him today?

Yata shook off his awkwardness, focusing on Saruhiko.

He seemed intrigued by something in front of him, face scrunched up in wonder. It was a new expression, almost childlike, and…weird, at least for Saruhiko. Yata breathed out irritably, shuffling the groceries in his hands around so as to not drop any. Seriously, they were getting heavy…

“What’s up with you?” After all, they really shouldn’t be gone too long, or traffic would get bad and the streets would get busy.

Yata turned in the direction Saruhiko was staring, only to finally see a familiar landmark. A familiar, _annoying_ landmark.

The city’s small, underfunded history museum looked like it hadn’t been properly spruced up in ages. The roof was in shambles, some of the chipped shingles threatening to fall off as they hung over the edge of the building. The structure creaked from what Yata assumed was either the wooden door or the cracked shutters on the windows, considering the building was made of mostly concrete. In fact, he and his friends had tagged it quite a couple times, and he recognized the faint color from one of Chitose’s ridiculous designs still painted on one of the dull cement pillars, which had probably looked fancy back in the day, but now only looked wet and unstable. The somewhat cool part of the architecture were the weird stone mermaids etched into the frame, but Yata never really saw the point in those.

Out of all the museums in town, it was the least popular. Despite the lack of renovated landmarks, the area around the old industrial sector had its fair share of scenic routes, and parks, so wasting time learning about the city’s boring founders was usually not on people’s lists. Even the elderly tourists passed it by more often than not.

“What is this place?” Saruhiko’s eyes were fixed on the crumpling building, and he inched towards the stairs as he continued to stare. Yata shot him a disbelieving look, his slack-jawed attention drifting between the other boy and the museum.

“It’s the history museum, what else?”

Yata cussed as the plastic bag rode up on his arm, and he again was forced to rearrange his belongings.

“I’ve never been,” Saruhiko said, turning to finally look at Yata, face oddly skeptical, like he didn’t believe the building was really there. Yata blinked.

“Seriously?”

“Well, have you?”

Yata sputtered a bit, and the bags in his hands jostled uncomfortably. God, what did it matter?

“W-well no, but who cares? It’s boring stuff,” the redhead muttered. Sure, maybe there might’ve been a field trip in his younger school days, but he’d stayed home during quite a few of those. “Besides, you don’t exactly seem like the type to find this kinda stuff cool…”

Saruhiko seemed startled then, and glared at the floor in thought, as if turning Yata’s words in his mind. “I…don’t. In fact, it’s all quite useless.” Saruhiko seemed unsure, which was also unusual, and Yata felt a weird chill from the breeze. The doubt in the taller’s voice and the creepiness of the old building didn’t mix well.

Yata scolded himself, feeling dumb for getting scared so easily. If his mom were there, she’d certainly be poking fun at him. Sure he didn’t like central because of the haunted spots, but he wasn’t a huge loser about it…(okay he was, but no one had to know.)

The museum wasn’t even haunted either, and who knew, maybe Saruhiko just didn’t want to admit to wanting to check it out. Saruhiko seemed like the type to deny it after all…

“Well, why do you seem like you wanna go then?” Yata asked, tentatively, still mildly unsure of his own reasoning.

Saruhiko’s eyebrows shot up, his face torn between giving in and denying any desire to check out the museum. But as Saruhiko’s eyes flicked over the architecture once again, Yata knew there was really no point in letting the other push down his curiosity. Plus, it was a new side of Saruhiko, and Yata wouldn’t pass that up _ever_.

And besides, it was still daylight out. With a grin and a jostle of his grocery bags, Yata walked up the museum’s steps, beckoning Saruhiko to follow.

\--

The museum consisted of a deep hallway, along which were pictures of the city from its early development, as well as facts and figures about industry and major politicians from over the years. There seemed to be a few adjoining rooms, probably containing more exhibits.

The inside was actually almost…elegant compared to the outside, despite the musty smell that permeated through the air and invaded Yata’s lungs. The red carpet was vacuumed and tidy, apart from a few wet patches where water from the rainy weather had managed to seep in from the poor roofing. The vintage wallpaper was peeling, but that somehow gave the museum a cozy, old timey feel Yata couldn’t help but get drawn in by. Before he could take a step though, a loud cough originated from the visitor’s desk.

The slim young man behind the counter seemed to eye Saruhiko with pure disdain, as if the brunet was the scourge of the earth, and Yata couldn’t help but be put off.

Confusion also joined his surprise when Saruhiko clicked his tongue, expression containing a mix of guilt and contempt that rivaled the other man’s.

“ _You_ ,” they both said simultaneously.

_Um_.

“I didn’t know you worked here now, _Fuse,_ ” Saruhiko broodingly uttered, scarcely making eye contact with who Yata guessed was the museum overseer.

“Well, some people do like to educate…” Fuse retorted, tone contrasting his polite disposition as he handed Yata an informational flyer. “It’s better than brooding all the time.”

Ouch. Yeah, Saruhiko did come off as pretty dreary, that was true. The guy was being a bit harsh though, and Yata only assumed they knew each other from school or something. Either way, it was clear from the hostile atmosphere that there weren’t exactly warm feelings between the two, though the familiarity threw Yata off.

“It doesn’t look like many people want to be educated,” Saruhiko drawled, tilting his head to gesture at the empty corridor in front of them.

“I didn’t say it was easy,” Fuse muttered, gratefully pulling his attention away from Saruhiko to give Yata the once over. “Who is this?”

It caught him off guard, considering he was still looking in confusion at the brochure.

“O-oh, I’m just a friend,” Yata replied, face flushing at the admission. _The fuck?_ Well yeah, Saruhiko was his friend…who he sort of flirted with…and who he wanted to hold hands with and— _dammit_.

“He doesn’t have friends,” Fuse murmured, shooting one last unwelcoming glance towards Saruhiko and taking a deep breath.

It was nearly the last straw for Yata. What did this guy know? Why was he being so rude to Saruhiko? Yata almost felt like picking a fight, and he stepped forward, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Saruhiko’s expression was tired, if not rightfully frustrated. Even he must’ve thought it wasn’t exactly worth it to get into a screaming match at the _history_ _museum_.

“Are you going to let us view all this useless stuff now?” Saruhiko’s eye twitched as he spoke, and Fuse didn’t seem exactly willing. It was a public building though…

“Down the hall you’ll find the town’s history, including famous mayors, monuments, and…”

Yata suddenly felt like he was in school again, the drawl of the teacher causing his eyes to droop even though he wasn’t the least bit tired. He silently wished Fuse would be done fast so Saruhiko could just look through the damn place and decide it hadn’t been worth the time.

“And lastly, the two adjoining rooms contain both an art gallery and a section on city folklore,” Fuse continued, regarding Saruhiko with irritation as the pair began to turn away before he had properly finished.

“Whatever, we can take it from here,” Saruhiko called over his shoulder, giving Fuse probably the biggest glare in the world as he pushed Yata forward down the hall. He felt like he was missing something, but he didn’t know Saruhiko so well yet, and now didn’t seem like the time to pry about his relationship with museum guy.

Yata left his pile of things at the bench near the front, certain that no one would be coming in to possibly steal his food. Fuse nodded, dutifully saying he would watch them in a way which contrasted his earlier rudeness. Yata wondered what his deal was, but he could hopefully find out later.

He shook it off, choosing to follow Saruhiko down the narrow halls. The eerie elevator type music that was playing over the scratchy speakers didn’t make the images on the wall any less dull and uninteresting, and Yata was more than mildly irked from being forced to waste time in the drab hall.

Saruhiko didn’t look particularly pleased either, occasionally rolling his eyes at an inscription or staring at the floor instead.

“Why are we here again?”

“I was curious,” Saruhiko said rather simply, as if Yata had asked a stupid question. “I don’t remember much about the city’s construction.”

“Well, they don’t teach it much,” Yata admits. “It’s not cool or anything so no one cares.”

“Hm.” Saruhiko rolled his eyes at another fact on the wall, muttering something about how it probably wasn’t true and other stuff Yata couldn’t make out. For someone who didn’t care, Saruhiko seemed to hate inaccuracy _. I’ll remember that_.

Though, Yata was coming to realize it wasn’t that Saruhiko didn’t care, more like he just didn’t want to admit when he did. If he found this history stuff interesting, who was Yata to judge? Although, he would joke about it regardless.

“Maybe _you_ think it’s cool though. Or, maybe you just didn’t want to take me home yet,” Yata mocked, expecting denial and perhaps a scoff in return. He didn’t get either.

“Yeah, maybe.” Saruhiko hummed, turning away and speeding up his pace to avoid meeting Yata’s eyes. “To the second one at least.”

Yata was probably red up to his ears, and he bit his lip _. Damnit. I lost that one._

He didn’t regret it at all.

They hardly stopped to stare at anything after that, lazily reading a few inscriptions here and there just out of habit. Most of the displays were old photos of the mansions and estates in central, or comparisons between the current city, and back when it was all forest and lakes. Yata almost felt sad, knowing all the nature was gone, all the lakes dried up, but he didn’t voice his opinion. It was probably dumb, but he was surprised when Saruhiko frowned at the old pictures as well. Again, Yata was hit with the same urge as before.

_What are you thinking? I want to know._

The end of the corridor was soon in front of them, and a miniscule intersection appeared as well, with sloppy signs directing visitors to the adjoining rooms.

The word ‘folklore’ was spelled incorrectly, a ‘u’ in place of the first ‘o,’ which even Yata found concerning. Even so, he’d much rather hear about old legends than look at mediocre art. The town was known for architecture, given that more buildings and structures were needed to hide from the relentless rainy season that dominated the landscape. Painters and other forms of creatives weren’t necessarily abundant. Yata had no trouble deciding which room to turn into.

The lighting of the exhibit, if it could be called that, was weak, barely there at all. The only source of illumination was a crappy lamp in the corner that hardly shone on the four picture frames hanging on the stained wall.

Yata squinted, looking up at the menacing depictions of creatures. Below each of them was written a short description, an explanation of each myth. The first, a rather stereotypical looking vampire, was cloaked all in dark garb with blood dripping from its fangs. Lame. Saruhiko snorted beside him, the strongest Yata had heard yet, and he laughed upon seeing the taller fight his own amusement.

Really, how these things were supposed to be scary was hard to think about.

Regardless, his childhood seemed to flash in front of his eyes, the old ghost of childish anxiety running through him.

He laughed a bit, shaking his head, and Saruhiko looked at him questioningly.

“My mom used to bullshit me with stories about this,” Yata explained with an amused twitch of his lips as he pointed at the blood sucker. “Telling me to get my homework done and set the table or I’d be vampire chow.”

Saruhiko smirked, inspecting the character with barely any interest. “Don’t tell me you were actually afraid of those things Misaki…”

“Shut the fuck up,” Yata laughed, the memories beginning to swim in his head. “I was a kid…”

_Yata ran in crying, the front door slamming shut as he leaped into his mother’s arms._

_“Umph! Misa—”_

_“They almost got me! I beat them though, I beat ‘em,” Yata nodded fervently, hands still clenched in his mother’s t-shirt._

_“What almost got you?” His mom’s tone was one of high alert, and she looked out of the side windows of the home with panic. “Are there people outside?”_

_“No mom! The vampires!”_

_Quiet seemed to descend over the household even as a storm raged on outside, tree branches hitting the sides of the humble home._

_“The…vampires?”_

_Yata pouted as his mom broke out into laughter. What was she laughing about anyways? This was serious!_

_“Mom! They almost got me!”_

_“Oh Misaki, er…I told you! Um…we live too close to the woods for there to be vampires! Yeah, that’s it…the woods…”_

_Yata blinked, eyes glazed over with tears not yet spilt due to his adrenaline fueled run into the house. “Huh? Why not? You said if I didn’t get my chores done on time then they’d come and—”_

_“Yes but…that was at our old house! Here we’re safe!” His mother pat his back affectionately, easing him off of her until he was standing dumbly in the middle of the room, unmoving until a huge grin broke out across his chubby face._

_“Cool! Then—”_

_“You still better get your chores done early though.” His mother’s expression was one of fake terror and worry, but Yata believed her nonetheless. His shoulders tensed up when another crack of lightning sounded from the outdoors._

_“W-why?”_

_“Well,” his mother started as she leaned down, tone dropping to just above a whisper as she scanned her eyes around in suspicion. “Vampires…don’t like the other monsters that live in the woods. That’s why they stay away.”_

_Yata’s eyes widened, and he turned, looking out into their backyard. It faced a small chunk of the woods, totally exposed and not at all menacing on their own, but the images his mind brought up were enough to scare him half to death._

_He didn’t play outside for a few weeks after that._

Yata snorted as he stared at the cliché picture in front of him. Of course his mother would still find a way to scare him right after comforting him. It had worked, and for a long time he’d made sure to have his chores done before sundown. All because what he imagined to be in those woods far outmatched any old vampire legends.

“Vampires are dull, I never thought they warranted all the fear they caused,” Saruhiko said. “I can’t believe you trusted her so easily.”

The restrained laughter hidden in the taller’s tone was unmistakable, and Yata shoved him playfully.

“Well when you’re little and your _mom_ is telling you this crap, then of course I’ll trust her!” Yata crossed his arms, looking over to the next two paintings. “Besides, these ones are way freakier looking! No way was I playing in the woods with these fucks out there!”

If he believed in said ‘fucks.’ Which he didn’t. Not anymore. Mostly.

The next two paintings consisted of the infamous black beast, the town’s apparent ‘taker of souls,’ and the Eastside Witch.

During his time as a kid, they’d definitely scared him the most, though as far as being out past sundown was concerned, the witch always seemed more dangerous. Yata saw himself as young and unbeatable as a kid, so worrying about some grim reaper type monster was pretty dumb.

If anything, he was pretty sure his mom only bothered with the legend to keep him from being so impulsive. As if.

“The way they painted her makes her look hideous,” Saruhiko said, amused as he pointed at the witch’s picture.

“Well yeah,” Yata replied, confused. “Aren’t witches supposed to be ugly? That way they’re scarier. I’m sure they thought of that…whoever made the myth up.”

“It all seems moronic to me,” Saruhiko stated, taking Yata’s eyes away from the inscriptions. “This is a city, an older one, but still a city. How are there such defined legends? They’re not exactly popular, so they’re unnecessary.”

_Huh_ …

Saruhiko had a good point. Only people who lived on the outskirts really knew the legends, and most of them were old. So really, there was no difference between them and generic horror stories. But as Yata stared at the most striking image, the black beast, his mother’s words continued to reach him from all the way back in his youth.

The town was originally rural, hardly industrialized and made up of a few large estates, fancy homes that now served as markers of the central suburban area. They were historical buildings now, but they were often rumored to be haunted, so Yata avoided them. The city was mostly woods then, and his mom would often complain about how she wished she could’ve seen it. Anything was better than the crowded bustle of the town now.

“They probably come from when stuff was just being built,” Yata thought aloud. “When the city was just forest, it would’ve been easy to think up creepy shit.”

Saruhiko didn’t look impressed.

“Eh, well, I think they were created by adults to scare their kids, so they won’t misbehave and shit ya know?” Yata shrugged. “They must’ve come from somewhere, but who knows.”

They had been scary though. For Yata’s childhood self at least. He’d hate doing chores outside at night, or turning off the lights whenever his mom would tell him one of the tales, sometimes opting to hide under his covers until he tired himself out. It was pathetic, and his friends would often make fun of him since Yata acted so brave and tough at school. It couldn’t be helped though, his mom was a great storyteller.

Then there was a puff of a hot breath a little too close to his neck.

“You still misbehave though, so they didn’t help much did they?”

Yata shuddered, pushing the other away, somewhat reluctant to not have the warmth nearby anymore. “W-whatever, I’m not that bad.”

Saruhiko smirked playfully, and Yata couldn't help but return it despite his flushed cheeks. "Sure."

Saruhiko's eyes lingered on his a little longer than necessary, and there was that pull again, like Yata wasn't meant to stand so far away. But, no, it was too soon. No matter how much he wanted to lean in and--

"Oh, Fushimi! You're here!" A bubbly voice called from the doorway, and Yata turned abruptly to find another man standing there, long black hair tied back into a ponytail as he adjusted his glasses. Upon seeing Yata, his voice dropped to a shyer octave, his smile small and sheepish. "Ah, what a surprise. You brought a friend?"

Saruhiko sighed behind him, bowing his head a little in greeting. "I didn't realize you were here as well, we were just wasting time."

The other seemed to brighten at that, his cheer directed wholeheartedly at them both, and Yata was thoroughly confused as to how Saruhiko knew such interesting people.  _Well, Saruhiko is pretty mysterious too._

The other man walked over, greeting Yata properly. Well, sort of. The guy was a little timid, but he was kind, that much Yata could tell, and he liked him much better than front desk guy. "Hi! I'm Enomoto, I'm glad you're hanging out with our Fush--"

" _Enomoto_." Saruhiko's tone was scolding, but was also sort of flustered, and Yata had never heard his voice sound like that before. He  _definitely_ liked it.

"Ah right, sorry Fushimi! Did you say hi to Dai--" Enomoto made a choked noise, as if he'd made some sort of mistake, and Yata quirked a brow in Saruhiko's direction. His expression looked pretty apathetic, but Yata could see his muscles tense, noticed the way his eyes narrowed only slightly. "U-um, I mean--"

"We...exchanged words at the front earlier." Saruhiko clicked his tongue, kicking at the stained carpet, and Yata realized he meant Fuse. "It's fine."

"A-ah..." Enomoto bit his lip, smoothing the front of his shirt down. "Well, I'm glad."

When Saruhiko looked up at the other's soft smile, Yata saw the stiffness leave him.

\--

Yata picked up his groceries and handed some bags to Saruhiko before pushing the door open, letting the warm summer breeze air out the stuffy building. The trip had been more fun than he'd thought, and he felt like he and Saruhiko were different now. He didn't know how, but Yata felt happy, and that was what mattered. Before they walked out, someone cleared their throat behind them, and both he and Saruhiko turned back.

"Saruhiko." Fuse stood there, with Enomoto staring at him expectantly, their fingers lightly touching on the desk in a way that reminded Yata of how Eric and Fujishima acted in public. Fuse's lips quirked in apology, and he shrugged. "Have a good rest of your evening."

_Huh?_

Yata glanced at Saruhiko, wondering if that was a joke or some other attempt at being rude, but it hadn't felt like it. And ah, it wasn't. Saruhiko nodded once, and then they were leaving. The tension from before was gone.

\--

By the time Saruhiko dropped him off at his front door, Yata had learned that Saruhiko had a good amount of friends. Or at least, that's what Yata gathered. Saruhiko hadn't  _called_ them friends, but Yata could tell it was implied. Apparently, Fuse was one of them, but they'd gotten into an argument a few days before, so they hadn't been talking, but it was fine now.

There were others too, Enomoto, and some energetic guy named Domyoji, and a good bunch of others. Saruhiko seemed to like complaining about a...Hidaka as well, which had been very funny to Yata. The closest was Douhan, he learned, the friend who also lived near the park. Saruhiko hadn’t exactly sung her praises though, and his demeanor shifted into agitation when she came up, but maybe they were fighting too. He didn’t bother to ask, and come to think of it, he hadn’t asked about what started his fight with Fuse either.

Overall, Yata was just happy to know more about Saruhiko, and he'd chattered on about his own friends too, each new fact making him feel on top of the world as they walked home. He was insatiable. He wanted to know more, so much more, wanted to hear Saruhiko's voice when he reluctantly answered a question or talked about his friends.

But of course, it was getting later in the day, and the walk home wasn't endless.

Yata didn't want it to end, so he stood there awkwardly in front of his house, taking the rest of his groceries from Saruhiko's arms as they avoided eye contact. Their fingers brushed, and Yata shivered, missing the contact when it was gone.

There was more silence, only interrupted by the muffled laughter of his siblings from inside the house, and Yata swallowed.  _Say something, anything! Ask him to hang out again!_

"Um--"

"Well, I'll see you later then," Saruhiko said, inching towards the path which led to the main road, and Yata panicked. He grabbed the taller's arm, wincing as the groceries weighed his arms down, but _fuck it._

"Saruhiko, do you...do you want to go to the carnival this weekend?" Yata knew he'd said it way too quickly, way too fucking desperately, but he was never one to not go after what he wanted. Plus, it was pretty clear now that he wanted to spend time with Saruhiko.  _Damn you Eric._ "It's, it's in town this weekend--uh the carnival--my friends were gonna go but you can come! If you want I mean ha."

_Oh my god if my mom can hear me she's never going to let me live this down._

Yata wanted to die, he was being pushy, he--

"Sure, I guess."

Yata's thoughts halted, and his eyes flew to Saruhiko's, which was a mistake given his already accelerated heart rate, because _fuck, those eyes._

Saruhiko's eyes were lidded, the slightest flush on his cheeks, and the only thing grounding Yata to reality was the smell of dinner on the other side of the door, reminding him of where he was. His eyes flicked away briefly, but he didn't stop the massive grin from forming on his face. "Really? I mean...yeah! We can meet at the park okay?"

"Mm." Saruhiko's lips twitched upwards, and Yata inhaled sharply, realizing how close they'd truly been when Saruhiko began to move away, walking backwards so as to not break their eye contact. "See you."

And then the taller turned around, disappearing off into distance as the sky got darker.

"Yeah," Yata sighed, long after Saruhiko was out of earshot. "See you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll probably post some more to this on Yata's birthday but I'm not sure yet ^^  
> All comments are appreciated <3
> 
> Tumblr: its-love-u-asshole  
> Twitter: itsloveuasshole


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